Rusted
by DementedMind96
Summary: Fate has a funny way of making itself known, whether it be something dramatic and devastating or as simple as an old wizard offering an adventure, an adventure that could free Erebor and regain the dwarves their home. One particular old dwarf sees this as his chance to earn peace within himself, peace that was stolen from him the day Smaug had attacked his people's home...


Warning: Language, violence, gore, and sexual content. Contains male/male relationships consisting of Bofur/Bilbo and Thorin/OC.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the OC.

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Clouds, large and overly fluffy like fat sheep, drifted across the sky in an almost lazy manner, the sun high in the sky as a sign of midday. Through the canopy of leaves, streams of light shone through, pale golden light that seemed to shimmer like the very precious metal of gold itself. The air was heavy with heat and humidity, almost oppressive in its nature and only broken up by a gentle breeze here and there, a welcomed relief on the folk of a nearby village. It was a village of Man, the hustle and bustle of activity heard even from far into the forest to the east, a forest best believed to be left alone except for by brave little children who sought adventure. If one listened carefully enough, they could actually hear the shouting of merchants over the madness, prattling on about the quality of their products and the supposedly reasonable prices of their merchandise. It was homely in a way, quaint and almost peaceful if it were not for all the damned shouting, though the tinkling echo of giggling children almost seemed to make up for it. Almost…

A soft snort escaped the hooded figure perched upon a high tree branch, giving them ample view of the village though certainly he was not close enough to be seen himself by any wanderers of the streets. What most would immediately notice about the hooded figure was their small stature, a mere 4'8" if one could guess, no doubt the sign of a dwarf or someone of dwarvish blood. Their body was that of a male, stocky yet seeming a little on the leaner side but not unpleasantly so. He was clad in multiple shades of gray and black, his figure hidden mostly by a hooded, dark gray duster coat. It was left open, revealing a tunic of lighter grays and even lighter colored undershirts for extra warmth, the tunic itself decorated with artful swirls of white. The lower half of him was bound in black, skin tight leather trousers, a multitude of matching belts with pouches attached and one strap for a silvery dagger that lay nestled against the left hip. Feet were clad in leather riding boots of black, bound and decorated by multitudes of straps and silver buckles. When one got past the short stature, it was not the clothes they would notice first, but the weapons the he carried upon his back for all to see.

Strapped to his back was a staff of sorts, a bladed staff of blackened wood and a blade on each end and forged from silver with intricate little designs engraved into their flat sides. Alongside the bladed staff was the recognizable forms of a bow and a quiver full of arrows, all made to suit one of his size. Such a show of his weapons was a clear sign that he was not a person who went about defenseless, a warning to those who were possibly to think of challenging him anytime soon. The dwarf, one could assume that was what he was, had no face visible for those to see, shadowed heavily by the hood as if it were an endless pit instead of a mere piece of clothing. It was better to stay hidden that way, a mere passing shadow through towns, a shadow that no one bothered to spare a second glance to. Less trouble that way, in his opinion, he was not inclined to be heckled by those of Man.

Unseen eyes roamed over the village slowly, carefully outlining every building and individual that passed within view. Minutes ticked by slowly, almost too slowly in his opinion, before he finally gave up bothering to look for whatever he was searching for amongst the masses. A huffed sigh escaped the hooded male, who all but slumped back against the trunk of the tree he rested upon, one leg lazily crossed over the other and his arms folded over his chest. For the time he listened to the woods around him, the chirps and caws of birds far more pleasant compared to the noise of the village before him, making him wonder why he had bothered to come at all. A particular sharp tapping sound earned his attention, and though distant as it was, he recognized it as the sound of a woodpecker doing what it was best known for. Even in his steadily falling mood he could not help but feel his lips twitching in amusement and for a brief moment he allowed his eyes to shut, just a moment to let him rest and catch up on all the nights of sleep he had lost in traveling to this place, just to find that he was going to have to wait even longer. Steadily the dwarf's breathing began to slow and the edges of sleep were already encroaching on his conscious, welcome like an old friend he missed dearly. Just a minute, just a single minute of sleep would do…

TAP TAP TAP.

That was most assuredly not the pecking of a woodpecker searching for grubs, the sound of wood hitting wood certainly identifiable. One eye snapped open and his head inclined downwards towards the forest floor, immediately searching for the source. What met him was a pair of bright blue eyes, twinkling within the merry, if wrinkled face, of a tall elderly man standing by the tree's trunk. It took him only a few seconds to recognize the man, dressed in gray robes, pointy hat, and bearing a wooden staff with a gnarled and twisted tip. It was none other than the wandering wizard, Gandalf the Gray, standing below and looking up at the hooded dwarf with a smile that one could only categorize as mischievous for whatever schemes he had going on in his head. The hooded dwarf did not like that look one bit… Silence hung in the air between them as the two stared at each other, one gaze stern and suspicious and the other full of mirth and amusement. It almost felt like forever before finally one of them broke it, a low voice that held a mild rasp and roughness to it coming out in a deep rumble, easily painting the hidden and no doubt harsh scowl from within the hood.

"You're late…"

Immediately the wizard's smile split into a grin as he stepped back from the tree, watching as the hooded figure slid off his branch to land before him in a crouch with surprising ease. "I am certainly not late, Master Oren, I said I would be here by some time midday and so I am," the elder replied cheerfully, grin still evident as his shorter companion stood up straight now, peering up at the taller with most likely a sense of wariness. Said hooded dwarf almost opened his mouth to give a retort before snapping it shut with a soft huff, bowing his head in conceding. It was very much still midday, even if it was later into such a time, it was not made clear particularly when in midday the wizard would arrive. Irritation bled out into amusement of his own and his lips twitched into a gentle smile, which was returned by the other even though it was not seen. The smiles soon turned to broad grins and without much coaxing the dwarf stepped forward, clasping forearms warmly with the elder in a familiar embrace of old friends. "Gandalf you old codger, you haven't aged a bit since the last time I saw you," Oren mused aloud, tightening his hold fondly for a moment before finally withdrawing to peer up more curiously at his friend. As old as the wizard seemed, he had only last seen the man before him a few years ago, unchanged by those years it seemed but it certainly was not an unpleasant surprise.

"I could say the same for you, old friend, and as much as I would love to reminisce with you, I did come here for a reason," said man replied lightly, though a gentle smile was now ever present on his weathered features. It was yet another surprise to the shorter that the old wizard had decided to get to the point for once, instead of dallying around the subject till someone had to snap him back into focusing. The dwarf conceded once more with a bow of his head though, gesturing an arm along towards the side, motioning further into the woods. Into step they fell in amicable silence, trudging carefully through fallen leaves and foliage, getting further and further from the village that was all but forgotten. It was a village not too far from Bree, though Oren's knowledge of the area was limited since he stayed more towards the higher populated villages and kingdoms to keep his chances of pay more available. Why Gandalf had told him to meet him there was beyond him, but who was he to question the mind of a wizard who seemed off to begin with? Glancing over to his companion, he observed in relative silence save for the light clearing of his throat, a sign for the other to begin talking and that he was fully listening. The wizard's lips twitched in amusement and his smile grew as if tempted to keep quiet to earn the ire of the other, however he relented as he finally spoke, his voice quiet yet clear so that only his dwarven friend was the one to hear even though there was no one else around to listen in.

"I am going on a journey, my friend, an adventure of a kind that I know you will no doubt want to join in on. I have already found thirteen companions now to go with me, all of part of your kin, though we shall pick up a thirteenth member soon of a….different kind. However, I was hoping maybe, that we could gain us just one more member and there is no other person I know who is more fitting than you, Master Oren..."

The elder paused, watching the other carefully as he let the words sink in, knowing full well just how the hooded male would react. Said dwarf's lips twisted into a light yet tired frown as he shook his head in distaste. "You know I'm not good with working with others Gandalf, I'm too… "fidgety", as you would say, to stay in place too long for anyone to stick around me," he muttered mildly, glancing away for a moment before looking back up to the wizard. "Yes yes, I know, but I find that even you of all people will want to get to know these particular individuals, especially their leader to be," was the cheerful response, which only earned a suspicious stare from within the shadowed hood. The robed male merely gave a bright smile in response, trudging along a little faster now and forcing his shorter companion to have to go faster as well to keep up. After all, dwarven legs were nowhere long enough to keep up with someone as tall as Gandalf the Gray. "Who is leading them?" Oren finally asked, having to walk quickly now to keep in stride, much to his amused annoyance. All he got in response was just another broad smile and he could not help but roll his eyes in exasperation.

"He is a dwarf of a highly respectable nature, my friend, whose name is known throughout all the lands even if his kingdom is long gone. A brave soul you once had the great honor of seeing in battle yourself, if I recall correctly, even if it was years ago."

Now that had the hooded dwarf slowing to a stop as his brain rushed to mull over the words and understand. '_A dwarf with a lost kingdom…_' he thought with a faint frown, trying to pick out any particular faces in his memory besides his own face since the description fitted not only him, but many others. There was only one occurrence he remembered clearly where he had to fight aside many dwarves, all in a desperate bid to regain the kingdom of Erebor and to drive away the orc menace that fouled the lands. There was no one he could quite clearly recall as having earned his awe for him to consider seeing them in battle to be a great honor. Well, there was the exception of one dwarf, one dwarf in particular he had long thought had disappeared from the face of Middle Earth. At this thought, the shorter male froze, his eyes widening slightly as the weight of realization slammed down upon his shoulders like a wall of bricks. Gandalf had stopped a few feet ahead, watching closely with an amused smile as the other's shoulders hunched up slightly.

"Yes Master Oren…I speak of Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór."

Those simple words hit the dwarf harder than they should have really, said dwarf taking a shaky step backwards for a moment before he finally stepped forward, striding quickly up to the wizard. He was not sure if he should believe what the elder had told him or not, staring dubiously yet wide eyed up at the other as he carefully examined his friend's face for any bit of falseness. There was still a gentle smile upon Gandalf's face, but his eyes portrayed a seriousness that his smile did not, washing away those doubts like a splash of cold water to the face. Taking a step back, Oren heaved a heavy sigh as a hand reached up to gently rub his cheek in his sense of sudden exhaustion. "Though I wonder how you found him…I am more concerned as to just what exactly this journey is for, Gandalf, no doubt a thing full of great perils. I may be old but I'm not exactly ready to die…yet," he huffed out, letting his hand fall back to tilt his head back, staring at the other intensely now, silently demanding yet dreading the answer at the same time. There was that twinkle again, that damned twinkle that spoke of mischief and mirth and he swore mentally because his assumptions had been made correct with that look alone.

"We are going to take back Erebor, my friend."

Oren cursed aloud this time, though certainly not in the common tongue as he spun around and began pacing back and forth before the wizard. He was grumbling unintelligibly to himself now, thoughts going at frantic speeds as he processed this information repeatedly. One side argued that it was idiotic, a suicide mission that would do none of his people any good because Smaug was a powerful beast, something he had witnessed himself and that he certainly was not really willing to experience yet again in his life. The other side however ached for the kingdom that was once his home, even if all that he had cared for was long gone, he wanted to see the beauty that was Erebor just one more time before his time finally came. It was a noble mission and his more honorable side was joining in, trying to coax him into agreeing for the glory that would no doubt come if they should happen to succeed. There was too much risk though and he was pretty sure whatever half-brained plan Gandalf had cooked up was going to earn the dwarf quite a few white hairs in just a short amount of time. Said wizard had said nothing more on the matter as the smaller moved about, not a tiny snippet of advice or wise words to help make the decision.

Several minutes passed by, then it soon turned to possibly half an hour, and neither sides arguing in his head were gaining any ground on each other. A low growl sounded in the hooded male's throat, but just as quickly as it came, it ended as a voice whispered in his mind, a voice he had long thought he would never hear ever again. The dwarf stopped mid-step at it, frozen in place for a moment before he finally relaxed with a soft sigh of defeat, suddenly spinning about to face the taller once more. For the first time that day and possibly for years, something could be seen within the darkness of the hood's shadow. It was a single pair of eyes that peered out, metallic gray in color and gleaming now with determination as he stared up at that other in silent answering. His companion grinned broadly in response, knowing full well what that look meant. Now it was merely a matter of gathering their last member and then their journey could truly begin…


End file.
